It’s not dying I’m afraid of
Weaver is vaguely tempted to flop down in the sand and just lie there, though she doesn’t given that she cannot quite bring herself to do so in front of the demi-god. Still, Weaver is exhausted from the fight, and she pays only some vague amount of attention as Wessex has a conversation with her little dragon. A conversation of a sort, anyway, and there’s something rather adorable about it, though Weaver busies herself collecting her scythe until the conversation is directed at her.
”Nice to meet you, Loki. Sorry about the fireball.” Hopefully the little dragonling wouldn’t hold a grudge and would understand that when you attack, there’s some repercussions. Weaver wasn’t exactly in the mood to get blasted off her feet any more than Wessex had already managed.
Wessex answers, and Weaver chuckles slightly. ”I’ve never been the greatest student of theory, though perhaps I should try harder.” She lived off instinct as Wessex appeared to, just trying to figure it out as she goes along.
”Nice to meet you, Loki. Sorry about the fireball.” Hopefully the little dragonling wouldn’t hold a grudge and would understand that when you attack, there’s some repercussions. Weaver wasn’t exactly in the mood to get blasted off her feet any more than Wessex had already managed.
Wessex answers, and Weaver chuckles slightly. ”I’ve never been the greatest student of theory, though perhaps I should try harder.” She lived off instinct as Wessex appeared to, just trying to figure it out as she goes along.
weaver
it’s dying without ever having lived
